Summer Poem by MAGNUS KING

Summer is a friend of mankind
Not so is the enemy Winter
The dehydrated pressure in the tsarlike fire
Turbulent voices tired in, with mirage and dryness
Yet know I not too far from refuge
The weak method of perseverance
Became strength in the vast sahara of confusion
Lodging and longing for the fumbling oceans
And the babbling and ripples from brooks and rivers
A retired journey from wonder and riddledom
The highway not too far from home
Home is where the solace is a crown prince
Or the solace is quickened to the throne
But Winter is an envoy of destruction
A quiet assassin with the arrows of cruelty and decay
A citadel with death sentences of fever, of corruption
Let me not into the hearth of winter
She pitched evil within the stormy tents and seas
Let Autumn hide me
And bring me the gates of Spring
Then will I be once more at Summer's brilliance